


Curiosity

by Forlorn_Melody



Series: Kord Center Mall [9]
Category: DCU
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, F/F, Internalized Acephobia, but does this ship ever really get fluff?, mallverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forlorn_Melody/pseuds/Forlorn_Melody
Summary: After her fight with Jason, Rose is willing to move on to anything or anyone who can get her mind off of him. And Cassie seems good enough. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Cassie Sandsmark/Rose Wilson, Jason Todd/Rose Wilson
Series: Kord Center Mall [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510748
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [commander_hot_pants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commander_hot_pants/gifts).



> Cassie doesn't get a good look in this one. Turn back now if that puts you off. Also, Rose has some not-nice thoughts about sexual identity labels, and they do not reflect my views on labels, kay? She's kind of in denial at this point. *cough* It's called a character arc, Susan.

Rose hasn’t slept well in a week. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees the hurt on Jason’s face, and it makes her heart pound. _He’s better off--_ You’re _better off, this way. This way no one gets hurt_. Except he’s hurt already. The times when she does fall asleep, she dreams of holding hands at the Wayne Estate, nursing him back to health when he’s sick, crying on his shoulder when her dad doesn’t show _again_. Each time Rose wakes up in a sweat, and then her brain won’t shut the fuck _off_. 

Thank the Great Whatever for punching bags. Let Joey meditate and mouth his mantras--sometimes punching is the only thing that calms her mind. With each hit--the synapses connect, her blood flows where it’s supposed to, and her muscles relax. Rose hits and hits and hits, sometimes throwing in a kick for good measure, until she’s too gassed to stand. Then she sits on a bench and stares out the window as the world starts to make sense again. Maybe the endorphins make it easier. Maybe her body’s too exhausted to let her brain overthink, but Rose realizes something after her second round of cardio. 

Rose wants more. 

Before, and maybe now still, Rose figured romance, real, true, _love_ , was something ashamed people made up to feel better about what and _who_ they did in bed. Joey, in his typical Marches-In-The-Pride-Parade-And-Has-Fucked-Every-Color-Of-The-Rainbow fashion, labeled her aromantic, or maybe demiromantic. Rose shrugged off the label and continued fucking whomever she pleased--let others worry about what to call her. She was _Rose Fucking Wilson_ and she did what she wanted. Ugh. Her older brother probably has a label for whatever _this_ is, too. 

So, what _does_ Rose Wilson want, exactly?

Well. 

Jason Todd, obviously, as usual. But Rose wants Jason in more than Just-The-Guy-I-Fuck-Around-With-Sometimes way. She wants to hold his hand when they’re out in public, wants to make him chicken soup from _scratch_ , she wants to be held--not just when he’s thrusting in and out of her and making her scream. And Rose already fucked _that_ up. 

So, what is Rose to do?

Well. 

There’s Cassie Sandsmark--the girl Rose has fucked more than once. More than usual, recently. To the point where her friends keep asking Rose what’s going on--and her usual shrugs and suggestive eyebrow waggles don’t seem to cut it. Maybe Cassie is still real fucking annoying, but she’s also kind of...charming? Fun to look at, at least. What the hell. Rose has no idea how this love thing is supposed to work, so maybe Cassie _will_ work. 

At least, that’s what Rose keeps repeating to herself as she waits for Cassie to show up for their shift. 

“Someone pee in your coffee?” The sound of Cassie’s voice makes Rose jump in her seat. 

“No,” Rose says shortly. All those lines she rehearsed in the last ten minutes? Gone. 

“No really. What’s up?” Cass plops down in the seat next to hers, bumping their knees together. 

“You look nice.” Well, she did. But why did Rose just say that out loud?

“Okay. Who are you and what have you done with my…?” Girlfriend? “...desk mate?”

Rose shakes it off. “You busy later?”

“Mm. Depends. Why?” Cassie does that thing where she twists her pencil into her hair, and now it makes Rose melt instead of cringe.

_What the actual fuck is happening_? _To me?_ “I was thinking I could make you dinner. Or something.” _Smoooth_. “Your place?”

Cassie’s eyebrows rise to the ceiling. “Sounds...different.” She pulls out her phone, thumbing through her text messages. “Yeah. Sure. Mom’s still out of town on a dig.”

Rose probably looks too eager, but she can’t help it. “Sweet. I’ll be there at 6.” There’s only one problem--she has to act casual for the rest of her shift. The hours drag on, as Rose sits, completely aware of how close Cassie’s chair sits next to hers, how she can just reach over and touch her hair, pull her close, and kiss her until she’s a writhing mess. She plans the menu in her head--starting with drinks and working backward. Cassie probably likes wine more than beer, right? Or is she more into the cheap shit the older kids keep smuggling into her parties? 

“Uh, excuse me?” Rose looks up, meeting the eyes of a disgruntled soccer mom in overpriced yoga pants and a _matching_ crop top. She holds a mat in one hand and a designer thermos in the other. “Where’s the hot yoga?”

“Down the hall, second door on your left.” Rose says automatically, heat rising to her cheeks. Shit. Could she tell? Could she smell the want radiating off her body? Soccer Mom moves on, and Rose steals a glance at the girl who’s stolen her heart. She’s halfway through her inbox, labeling and responding to emails in triaged fashion, seemingly unaware of Rose’s gaze. 

Stir fry would work. Everyone loves stir fry, right? 

* * *

Hours later, Rose stands in Cassie’s kitchen, making her dinner and daydreaming about making her dessert. The peanut sauce simmers on the backburner, and the curves of Cassie’s thighs boil in front of Rose’s mind. She rehearses her speech over and over.

_Hey, I think I really like_

_You’re really awesome and_

_What do you think about being girlfriends?_

Cassie wraps an arm around her, and Rose jumps out of her skin. “You’re really jumpy today.”

Rose swallows, hoping the heat of the stove excuses the redness in cheeks. “I have a lot on my mind.”

Leaning closer, Cassie chews her grin. “Oh, like what?” Close enough to kiss. 

“Heh, yeah. Something like that.” Their noses brush, and Rose swears she can taste her already. 

Just as Rose’s lips brush Cassie’s, she jerks back. “Is something burning?”

Rose’s eyes widen, shoving Cass out of the way. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

* * *

Cassie has devoured half her plate before Rose finally blurts it out. Rose tries taking a bite, but it tastes like wet _papier-mâché_ and goes down her throat like gravel. 

“Cassie?”

She looks up at Rose, and Rose drops her fork. “Yeah?”

“Want to be my girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Cassie shoves another bite in her mouth, narrowing her eyes. 

Shit. Fuck. Rose takes a breath, trying to slow the hammering in her ears. “I think...I know. We’ve. Fu--slept together a few times. And you’re actually really nice so…” Waving her hands in vague gestures, Rose watches for Cassie’s reaction. 

She smiles. Then she laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Rose.”

Rose holds her breath, and every tick of Cassie’s grandfather clock takes an eternity to strike. 

Cassie shakes her head, chuckling a little. “This...I mean. I’m not really interested in girls _that_ way.”

What little Rose managed to eat churns in her stomach. 

The girl across from her softens, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Don’t get me wrong. The sex is great.” She smiles. “Girls _are_ hot. But I only form emotional connections with men.” Her forefinger taps Rose’s knuckles. “Did you still want to? Y’know?”

_Don’t. Don’t you dare._ “Sure.” The word slips so easily out of Rose’s mouth. 

They fall into bed together easily too. It’s easy to pretend this is all she wants right now. Making Cassie squirm comes as readily as doing algebra. And it feels nice to be touched by her. And if she doesn’t like her, then it doesn’t matter if Jason’s the one she’s thinking about, right? 

Rose doesn’t stay the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oof. Take a breath. Take a walk, even. But lemme know what you think when you've had a chance to clear your head, alright?


End file.
